The morning sun filtered through the towering windows of the Royal Palace, but the light couldn’t ease the tension in the grand council hall.
Aria stood at the entrance, her posture unyielding, though her heart beat rapidly. Dominic and Adrian flanked her, their presence solid and grounding, yet their eyes glimmered with unspoken concern. The hall, usually a place of order and ceremony, now felt like a battlefield of glances and whispers.
“Aria Shadowblood,” intoned the Royal Council’s chief, an elder whose gray hair and piercing blue eyes betrayed years of experience—and suspicion. “You have been summoned because your actions, your power, and your… associations… have come into question.”
Aria’s jaw tightened. She had already anticipated this confrontation. She’d saved Tara. She’d stood
